Backstreet Hero. Justine Davis
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“He wouldn’t have to,” Lilith said, thinking of her own debt to the man who had built this empire.
“No,” Tony agreed.
This, at least, they had in common, she thought. They would both do anything for Josh Redstone. She knew why Tony would; his story was legend at Redstone, along with Draven’s and Ian’s and many others.
And it suddenly hit her that she was going to have to tell him her own story. And that made her feel faintly nauseated.
If only Samantha wasn’t pregnant. She could have told her, much more easily. She doubted the tough, beautiful blonde could have related—she doubted Samantha Gamble had ever been truly afraid in her life—but she would have understood.
The moment the thought formed she was appalled at herself; Samantha and Ian were delighted, if bemused, at their impending parenthood, and to wish that away, even for a split second, for her own benefit made Lilith ashamed of herself.
It was time to get a grip.
“Close the door, would you, please? The fewer people who know about this, the happier I’ll be.”
Tony complied without a word. Lilith walked back to her desk and sat down. Normally she would have taken the second chair in front of her desk, but she needed the bulwark.
Because she had just shut herself into a small room with the one person at Redstone who made her unbearably nervous.
It was going to be a very long morning.
Just when did you become a masochist?
As he sat in the chair opposite her desk, relieved now that he’d seen for himself that she indeed seemed uninjured, he was very aware that she’d chosen to take her desk chair for the feeling of power or security it gave her, and the benefit of the desk between them. He also knew the answer to his own question. The moment he’d realized Josh was convinced Lilith could really be in some kind of danger, he’d had no choice. Even knowing he was going to regret it.
He already did.
The moment he’d walked in and seen her, all the truths he’d lived with since he’d first met her had risen up to swamp him anew. Lilith Mercer was everything he was not: elegant, refined, classy, cultured. He knew, thanks to the world Josh had opened to him, that he could put on the appearance of all those things. But he also knew that in him they were only skin deep. In Lilith, they went clear to the bone.
And he hadn’t missed her reaction when she’d seen him; she didn’t want him around. It puzzled him for a moment; they had gotten along well enough during his work on Logan’s case, when she had asked him to keep her posted for Liana’s sake.
But this was different, he supposed. This was her own situation, and because of that the contact would be much closer. He probably seemed like some kind of alien being to her, and he couldn’t blame her. He knew who and what he was, and all the polish he’d acquired since his days on the street couldn’t change that. His world and hers couldn’t be further apart.
That hadn’t stopped him from falling like a fool the moment he’d first seen her at the Redstone Christmas party, after Josh had called her in to clean up Stan Chilton’s mess. He knew the image of her in that striking red dress would be with him until he died. Somehow the red had startled him; she seemed so reserved, but someone—he couldn’t remember who, just as he couldn’t remember much of what had happened that night after he’d seen her—had told him it was her favorite color and she wore it often.
He could see why; today she had on the Redstone logo shirt in a more muted shade, and it still set off her hair like golden fire.
He stared at her, all the warnings he’d given himself on the way over lost in some kind of hot haze. If there was anything more absurd or impossible in his life than such a reaction to her, of all women, he couldn’t think of what it was. Not only was she all those things he wasn’t, but she was a Redstone department head and one of Josh’s oldest friends. That she was likely a bit older than he was didn’t bother him, but all the rest did. He owed his very life to Josh, and he would never forget that.
And if that doesn’t work, he told himself in an effort to clear the fog, just remember the last time you felt anything like this for a woman.
That memory—the image of a lovely, lifeless body lying on a cold metal table—managed what nothing else had. The last time he’d let himself truly feel something for a woman, it had gotten her murdered.
Back in control now, his rioting senses jammed back into the cage where they belonged, he repeated his promise. “I know this is a nuisance for you. I’ll try to keep out of your way.”
“I am sorry,” she said, and she sounded more genuine this time. “I didn’t mean to react that way. But this is a bit…below your talents.”
“Some of them,” he said, quashing the thought of other talents he’d like to exercise with her, shoving that cage door shut. “But I’m here, free at the moment, and we’re not…strangers.”
“No,” she agreed. “And you know I was very impressed with what you did on Logan’s case. I know he was…difficult, at that point in his life.”
Tony chuckled, feeling a bit easier now. And pleased with her praise, he admitted ruefully. “Difficult? Yes, like a croc with a toothache is difficult.”
When she laughed in turn, he felt an odd sense of gratification that his rather lame joke had done it. He shoved a little harder on that cage door.
“I just don’t think this is anything serious. I’m not sure it’s anything at all.”
“Then it should be quick,” he said smoothly, determined now to approach the job as if it were any other in-house assignment. “I’ll need to see where that wire was rigged. And talk to the kid your neighbor suspects. But for now, why don’t you tell me why Josh is convinced that you’re in continuing danger?”
She looked puzzled. “He didn’t tell you? Didn’t Draven?”
“I wanted you to tell me. One less filter to go through.”
She lifted one shoulder, somehow making even that half shrug seem elegant. “He has some idea my near-accident last week and what happened this morning are connected, I presume.” She met his gaze then. “He did tell you that much? What happened?”
Tony nodded. “He said you weren’t hurt. Is that true, or were you trying to keep him from worrying?”
“If I was, I obviously didn’t succeed,” she said, her dry tone making him smile in spite of himself.
“Josh is a hard sell when it comes to the welfare of his people.”
“How well I know,” she agreed, at last giving him that smile that could warm a room, the smile that encompassed everything, that drew him to her so impossibly; warmth, charm, grace and the generous spirit that had quickly made her one of the most loved Redstone people. That the smile wasn’t really for him, but rather for the absent Josh, didn’t lessen the impact.
“I’m fine,” she said in answer to his original question. “No serious damage except to my pride and my derriere.”
And a fine one it is.
The thought formed before he could stop it. Although she generally dressed fairly conservatively, her fire and flair coming in the frequent splashes of her favorite red, when she wore jeans as she did today, there was no disguising the fineness he’d just thought about.
Hell, he thought about it every time he saw her, and that alone made him aware of how out of line he was. He couldn’t imagine any other man at Redstone having raunchy, lustful thoughts about Lilith Mercer. Longing, aching, desire, yes, but not the